Chores
by p0ck3tf0x
Summary: Prussia was surprised that the two of them managed to finish any chores with all of the fooling around and distractions. One Shot.


_Synopsis: Prussia was surprised that the two of them managed to finish any chores with all of the fooling around and distractions._

_Hetalia does not belong to me. Neither do any of the countries mentioned. Get back to me after 'World Domination Phase 3' is complete. I still owe some review replies so please sit tight if I have not responded yet._

**Chores**

Prussia carried a basket of dirtied clothes down the stairs, into the basement, and was surprised to find Canada standing in front of the washing machine without a sound. He was not loading clothes or sprinkling detergent or even twiddling the dials with nervous hands; he was just standing there.

Prussia settled the basket on the floorboards and stepped around Canada to see what the problem was.

Ah…

That was it.

The washing machine was on.

Prussia sighed. He was not sure what he had been thinking when he agreed to the purchase of a front loading washing machine. He should have seen this coming…

The front porthole was clear plastic and the clothes inside swished in the water and detergent as it spun around and around in endless circles. Prussia found it distracting but the blonde found it more so; Canada was watching the machine with a blank, distant stare.

Damn.

Canada had a strange habit of swooning over the most mundane bits and pieces of life. He would gaze at the eyelashes of his polar bear for hours. Stained glass was just as bad. So were wind chimes.

Prussia had returned from a trip once to find Canada staring at an old paperweight. When he asked him how long he had been there, Canada could not remember, and so Prussia began to take shorter trips to see his brother or just dragged Canada behind him.

Prussia sighed again and snapped his fingers in front of his face. Canada did not even blink.

"Matthew? Matthew? Come back to me." The blonde did not stir and Prussia growled. He was not upset with Canada or even the washing machine; he just loathed to be ignored. "Oi! I am talking to you!"

It was not use. He was too far gone.

"Well, fuck you too, then."

Prussia crawled on top of the washing machine with as much grace as was possible. He tried swinging his legs in front of the porthole but Canada took no notice and he stopped. He held his legs on either side of it instead.

He leaned back and studied Canada. His sleeves were folded up past his elbows and the collar of his sweater was crooked to highlight his collarbone. It was half tucked in and half hanging loose and much too large for his frame. It was the last shirt in his drawers, used just for weekend chores, and it was threadbare and stained where bleach had splashed along the bottom hem. His jeans were in a similar state with a hole in one knee and worn to the softest blue possible before white.

His feet were bare.

Prussia felt a gentle smile grace his features and he was grateful there was no one else here to see it. It was embarrassing. It was ridiculous and preposterous and not at all like him.

It was a smile that was meant just for Canada and no one else.

Prussia extended his legs so that his feet could catch Canada at the waist and he tugged him closer until he was pressed against the washing machine. His gaze was still distant but he was no longer watching the swirling clothes. He was staring into space now.

Prussia laughed and wrapped his legs around Canada, holding him close, and kissed the tip of his nose.

Canada seemed to snap out of it all at once and Prussia watched as awareness and confusion came flooding into his gaze. He frowned, a delicate downward tilt to his lips, and scratched at his nose. Prussia laughed again.

"Welcome back."

"… I did it again." It was not a question.

Prussia kissed him on his nose once more before directing his attention to the curve of his jaw. To be honest, Prussia did not mind these episodes because each one was more interesting than the last. Prussia wanted life to be interesting and, if it was not, he took matters into his own hands.

Canada made life interesting.

Prussia tugged him even closer, if that was possible, and kissed him. Canada needed to strain those last few inches to meet his lips and Prussia slouched so that he could reach him from his perch on top of the washing machine. It was a little awkward but not as awkward as it should have been.

These episodes were strange but interesting and Prussia treasured them.

Still…

Perhaps he would keep Canada from washing the clothes.

Just to be safe.

* * *

"Where are the bedsheets?" Prussia shouted from one end of the house.

"In the closet!" Canada sang from elsewhere.

"… Which closet?"

"Oh, for the love of… The linen closet!"

"… Which one is that?"

"The one with the linens!"

"Hmmm…"

"You're hopeless!" Canada ran up the stairs to find him and pointed to the lone closet in the corridor. "That one!"

"Oh… Of course. I knew that."

* * *

Canada wandered into the den, intent on asking Prussia what he wanted for lunch, but stopped short when he saw him dancing across the carpet. One of his hands was wrapped around the handle of the vacuum and the other one was holding his MP3 over his head in a salute. The headphones were large and impressive, alight on his hair and over his ears, and very, very pink.

Canada bit his lip to keep from laughing, but he was sure Prussia would never hear him over the music blasting from the headphones. He thought it might be a polka.

He swept the vacuum over the carpet, humming as he went, and scooted around the furniture, shaking his hips. He was wearing old jeans and a tight, stained undershirt. His broad shoulders were turned from the other nation and he shimmied without a care.

Canada leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest, watching the show with a smile.

He adored finding Prussia like this, dancing and almost innocent, because it meant that he felt safe. He would never let his guard down otherwise. It warmed his heart to know that the old soldier felt safe with him.

Canada crept behind him and covered his eyes with gentle hands. Prussia jumped in his grasp but did not elbow him in the stomach as he might have so long ago.

He chuckled and twisted around in the circle of his arms, removing the headphones as he went, and turned off the vacuum. The music continued to blare from the loose headphones. He kissed Canada and wrapped his own arms around his waist. Canada threaded his fingers through the hair at the base of his neck so that the two of them tangled together in perfect symmetry.

"Guess who?" He whispered against his lips.

* * *

"Like this?"

"No."

"… Like this?"

"You're making it worse!"

"… How about this?"

"Argh!"

* * *

Canada leaned over the edge of the bathtub with a sponge and swept the detergent from side to side. His fingers ached with the pressure but there was an instant satisfaction in washing down tiles and porcelain. The results were immediate.

The bathtub was an immense cast iron clawfoot that could fit two men without a problem, and often would, and it was one of the reasons he bought the house in the first place. It was an old house that required a lot of upkeep but the details were exquisite.

He leaned in further to scour the other side and someone pushed him in.

"Gilbert!" He spluttered, covered in detergent.

"Yes?" Prussia clasped his hands behind him and tried to appear innocent but it was a lost cause. Canada sighed and glanced down at his sweater. It was also a lost cause, but then again, it was meant to be.

"I'm covered in soap now."

Gilbert grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"You say that like it's a bad thing… You are a dirty, dirty boy."

He leaned forward onto the edge of the bathtub and Canada thought he might kiss him but he reached for the taps and turned on the shower instead. Canada screeched as freezing water pelted him.

"You son of a…" Canada leapt forward before he could retreat and dragged him into the bathtub with him. He landed on his legs and blocked some of the water but not enough. Both of them were covered in detergent and water now.

Prussia cackled and knocked their foreheads together. His hair was slicked back under the constant stream.

"You're a dirty, filthy boy."

"And you're an asshole." Canada laughed. The water was heating up to a decent temperature and it was even warmer where their bodies pressed against each other. He scooted a little closer and ground his hips against the other nation.

"I am that, yes." His voice softened as his pupils dilated. He slipped his hands under his sweater. "What are you going to do about it?"

Canada sat up enough to whisper fantasies in his ear and Prussia pushed back in surprise before a slow smile spread over his face.

"You _are_ dirty!"

* * *

"It's cold."

"Shut up. This is your fault." Canada stripped off the last of his wet clothing and threw it down the stairs into the basement. It landed with a wet _'thwack'_. He could hear the washing machine swishing a new load of clothes but Prussia refused to let him near it since his last episode.

"It is not."

"It is too. You're the one who turned on the shower while I was cleaning the bathtub."

"Yes, but you did not need to pull me in too!"

Canada growled and meandered over to the linen closet. He found a single blanket and wrapped it around himself. The last of his clothes were soaked and he refused to wander around naked while he waited for the washing machine to finish.

"Fine then, I am _not_ sharing the blanket."

Prussia ran up the stairs without a stitch on and did not seem to mind in the least. He had abandoned most of his clothes during their encounter in the washroom.

"Oi! That's not fair!"

"No, no it's not." Canada stuck out his tongue and turned down the corridor.

Prussia tackled him from behind and sent them both sprawling. He turned him over and settled on his stomach and tugged on one side of the blanket.

"Mine! Mine, mine, mine!"

"The hell it is!"

He struggled for control of the blanket but Canada fought back and flipped him over so that their positions were reversed and he sat across his chest with a snort of satisfaction.

"You're mean." Prussia pouted, still grasping a corner of the blanket.

"I am not."

"You are too."

Canada sighed and ran his fingers through his wet curls as he tried to come to a compromise. Prussia started dragging his fingernails over his thigh in an attempt to distract him.

It was working.

"What if we, ah, shared it?"

Prussia pinched him with a slight twist of his fingers and a soft smile.

"Alright."

* * *

Prussia and Canada stood shoulder to shoulder at the kitchen sink with the blanket still wrapped around them. Canada filled the sink with warm water and bubbles and tossed in some teacups and utensils. Prussia watched as he reached beneath the water with delicate hands and the blanket slipped a bit to expose the love bites he had peppered him with minutes beforehand.

He finished with the first dish and handed it over to Prussia to be rinsed without a word.

It was getting late but he had to admit that the house was much tidier than when the two of them started. It surprised him that they managed to do even that much with all of the fooling around and distractions.

He laid the teacup upside down on the wooden rack to dry.

He would never admit it but he did not mind chores if Canada was there to help him with them. It made the difference between an unpleasant task and a simple chore.

Canada handed him another dish.

Prussia glanced at him as the blanket slipped even lower. Their clothes might be done now but he refused to fetch the basket if it meant he could cuddle nude under the same blanket as Canada. He was humming under his breath as he washed the dishes and looking out the window into the garden. He was admiring the flowers he had planted last weekend but Prussia was admiring him.

He was wonderful and Prussia felt that same ridiculous smile, the one meant just for Canada, slide over his face. It must have shown because Canada tore his gaze from the window to stare at him instead. He blushed.

He laughed and elbowed him under the blanket when he saw the blush.

Prussia reached over into his side of the sink and threaded their fingers together. He held his hand beneath the bubbles and squeezed it tight as if it were his rightful place to be there. Canada blinked a couple of times before a similar smile spread over his face and he returned the gesture.

* * *

_**Author's Notes:**_

_I am sure this how chores would normally unfold in their household… This is kind of how they unfold in mine. This piece is of the same stream as Housewarming, Chicken Noodle Soup, Plastic Minions, and maybe a couple more._

_Yes, in my mind, Prussia would listen to the polka on bright pink headphones, thank you very much. It seems to me that my version of Prussia has an affinity for pink while my version of Canada wears oversized sweaters and never seems to wear shoes. Both of them seem to hum or sing quite often but that might be a reflection of me; there should be singing in good times and bad. Tone deaf or not._

… _It surprises me to find out that people have definite opinions of me and my pieces. I am flustered and flabbergasted when someone adds me to a list of favourite authors or mentions me elsewhere on the internet, especially because so many of these people are so talented… and they still pay attention to me! Wow! Does anyone else find this weird? _

_This piece has been kicking around (it is nothing special but it is fun) and I decided to post it because when I dropped in on tumblr the last couple of times there were a lot of complaints of a suicidal Canada and a cruel Prussia permeating this website and that will not do. I mean, sure, it is fine to depict the characters as such but one of the reasons I started writing for this couple was to avoid that more often than not. As you can see here, these two are just lovable fools to me. Most of the time.  
_

_Ummm… I was diagnosed as bipolar last week (because, you know, my life was not complicated enough). That has been interesting but I am following steps to deal with it. Ugh. I am still writing, and I mean to write more this summer, but I also started posting odds and ends on my livejournal under the same name. I posted the first and second chapters of a couple of my projects on there in the meantime before I post them here, which I will not do until a certain percentage of the work is done and I have uploaded the next couple of chapters of ToW… Which should be soon, too. Please feel free to wander over there in the meantime as it is open to the public._

_**Please leave a review and feel free to offer opinions, advice, or criticism. All are welcome. You are free to leave an anonymous review; I do not mind. Please just let me know what you think of this piece.**_


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